


All the Time in the Galaxy

by waywardrose



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, F/M, First Kiss, Knights of Ren - Freeform, Mutual Pining, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 03:00:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20056933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardrose/pseuds/waywardrose
Summary: “Lady Ren, pardon the interruption—” You didn’t know what he was interrupting. You were both standing in silence. “—The techs have noticed something strange here on Starkiller.”





	All the Time in the Galaxy

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous said: PDA with Kylo... a totally shy baby, at least in front of staff
> 
> I could kiss you, binch! I love writing in the Star Wars universe. I’m assuming that’s what you meant. Unless you had a modern setting in mind. Either way, I hope this satisfies. Thank you for the prompt!
> 
> **PDA** \- _Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?_
> 
> Prompt from the [Fluff Alphabet](https://the-wayward-rose.tumblr.com/post/186447745297/fluff-alphabet)

The lieutenant you were sharing the turbolift with cleared his throat. You knew what that meant. You’d been around the First Order enough to expect someone to talk to you after a pointed _ahem_.

“Lady Ren, pardon the interruption—” You didn’t know what he was interrupting. You were both standing in silence. “—The techs have noticed something strange here on Starkiller.”

You indulged the officer and internally turned on the vocoder in your helmet. “Oh?”

“The chronometers, ma'am. They haven’t been keeping time well deep at the core.”

“I don’t follow.”

“There’s speculation it’s something to do with the energy of the planet.”

“Have you brought this to General Hux’s attention?”

“Yes, ma'am. He is at a loss.”

You bet Hux would just _love_ to hear someone revealing his ignorance. You were lucky the face-panel hide your grin. It was difficult to maintain a facade of impassivity when something tickled you so.

Schooling your voice, you stated, “You would like me to bring this issue to my master’s attention.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

You nodded. “I’ll broach the subject with him when I see him.”

“He is on one of the core levels, ma'am.”

“I know,” you replied and turned off the vocoder.

You could feel your master. You were headed for him—though the officer didn’t know that.

You had been feeling Ben Solo, now Kylo Ren, for most of your life. At the Jedi temple, he’d been a boisterous boy who floated flowers at you, then a sulking teen with a rare yet dazzling smile, and finally a wrathful young man. And underneath it all: a twisting vein of darkness.

He’d spared you the night of the temple’s destruction. He had stood over you, in dirty pajamas with ignited lightsaber in hand, and offered another way. No Jedi, he’d said. No more lies.

You’d looked into his watery eyes and studied his tear-stained cheeks, his quivering bottom lip. He’d been in pain, so much pain. It hurt to see it. Of course, you hadn’t wanted to die. You didn’t want to be another blow to his already-injured soul, either.

So, you’d offered your hand to him, and he’d pulled you to your feet. There had been something in his eyes that looked like gratitude. You could admit now that you’d wanted to kiss him. It would’ve been wrong, though. You both had been emotionally compromised. He’d become a murderer, and you’d watched fellow students—even younglings—cut down.

You were both murderers now. Neither one of you were emotionally compromised.

But you still wanted to kiss him.

The turbolift came to a stop and dinged, announcing the level. The lieutenant stepped out after giving a crisp salute. You nodded to him before the doors closed. You had fifty levels to go before you reached Kylo.

You pondered the chrono problem the lieutenant had brought up as the turbolift traveled down. When he’d said energy, he meant the Force. The planet that had become Starkiller could be seen as a living thing. It had had a heart. There had been life here. You’d felt the phantom of it when you arrived for your rotation with Kylo.

You’d felt Kylo, too. It had been almost a year since you’d been close enough to feel him. He was… You didn’t have the words. You were no poet. He was awesome—in the real sense of the word. Impressive. Daunting. Overwhelming.

Though not as resolutely dark as Snoke wished him to be.

You’d been sparring and training with Kylo every day since arriving. There were shared meditation sessions. A few times, you’d eaten together. You tried not to stare at him, but he drew your gaze. He’d caught you numerous times, too. You expected a scolding for ogling, but he always said nothing.

Sometimes at night, you thought about a different life. Not one without Force-sensitivity, but one in which neither of you were Knights. Master Luke had never said attachments were forbidden. He’d even remarked attachment could give a Jedi strength and focus. You wondered if you could’ve been that for each other.

The turbolift stopped again and dinged. You were at your destination. It was quiet all the way down here. And warm. You loosened the top of your jacket to let in some air as you walked through the dim passageways to where you felt Kylo. He was a bonfire at night.

You found him looking out over the dormant reactor. Far, far below were tech-droids and operators putting the final huge components in place. The sparks like fireworks arced from the welding torches.

“Master,” you softly greeted him when you turned on the vocoder once more.

His posture relaxed, and he unclenched his hands on the railing. “Work is ahead of schedule.”

“It appears so.”

“Would you prefer sparring or meditation today?”

You floundered. He’d never given you a choice before. He had been directing the Knights’ instruction for years. Yes, Snoke oversaw everything, but Kylo was the educator.

“Something’s bothering you,” he stated with a tilt of his head.

“Something a lieutenant mentioned.”

He turned to you, scrutinizing you from behind his mask.

You continued, “He said the chronos down here won’t keep accurate time.” Sweat started to gather on your upper lip. “Speculated about energy interference.”

_“The Force.”_

“Yes.” You wished for something to do with your hands, but there was nothing. You kept them at your side, hearing the creaking of your gloves as you flexed your fingers. “You spend significant time down here. Have you noticed anything?”

For a second, Kylo was still. “No,” he said and turned back to the railing.

That had to be a lie. His emotions spiked, but you didn’t know what that meant. You wondered if he’d read you, felt your anxiety. Or maybe he had noticed something going awry with the planet. Were you all in danger?

Your helmet was suffocating in a way it usually wasn’t. But you wouldn’t take it off unless he did his.

“The Force is different here,” you said, more to distract yourself than anything.

“Thin.”

“Like a ghost.”

“It’s also easily influenced.”

You didn’t know what he meant. “Master?”

“You don’t have to call me that,” he spat.

You took a deep breath before you could murmur, “Kylo.”

You’d thought of calling him by his chosen name over the years. Each time, something held you back. The presence of the other Knights or First Order officers. _Snoke._ You’d mouthed the name in the dark when you were alone, getting a feel for it on your tongue. It was oddly elegant.

He released the chin plate on his helmet and tugged the whole thing off. The fall of his wavy hair just brushed his broad shoulders. You tried to stamp down the urge to touch it. You hadn’t touched his hair since the temple.

He turned and met your eyes, though you knew he couldn’t see them. “The Force is easily influenced here.”

You numbly nodded, wanting him to continue. His eyes were grave and unfathomable. He was ancient yet untouched by time. His skin was flecked with dark stars.

“Take off your helmet.”

If you did that, he’d see everything. He couldn’t know. It would compromise you both. He couldn’t know how you wanted to smooth his furrowed brow and kiss his full lips.

“Please,” he whispered.

You could deny him. He wouldn’t punish you—though you would disappoint him. And that wasn’t appealing. You steeled yourself and unlatched the face-panel of your helmet. You would survive if he rejected you. It would just feel like you hadn’t. But you’ve already died a hundred times with all the work you’ve done for the Knights.

You pulled off the slack helmet and let it weigh down your hand, your whole body. The fresh air was cold comfort. The light sweat instantly evaporated from your skin.

“You’re always a shock.”

You glanced at him and then out into the reactor, not knowing what to think. You knew your face wasn’t the most beautiful. Everything was in the proper place, though, and a decent shape.

He softly added, “You could own the galaxy.”

You looked at him, mouth opening to ask what he meant. He stepped to you and reached out to cup your cheek. The shock of contact froze you in place. All your words dissolved at his touch. The warm scent of his leather gloves overran the smell of hot metal and ozone from the reactor.

“I know why the chronos can’t keep time down here.” His thumb stroked your cheekbone. “It’s me. Until you’re sent away, it’s me.”

“Kylo, I don’t understand.”

“I never want our time to end.” He appeared pained to admit it. “I must be…” He grit his teeth. _“Influencing_ them.”

That cracked you open. Relief, longing, regret, desire flooded out of you. It could fill the reactor, the entire planet even—until it was alive again. If you could still cry, you would.

You breathed, “I don’t want to leave.”

You put your hand over his on your cheek and willed him to come closer. He tipped your chin up, pinky finger under your jaw. Something in your eyes must’ve said what your mouth could not because he took that last step separating you.

He leaned in to press a tentative kiss to your lips. But you were ready for him. You had been ready for years. His lips were petal soft. You tilted your head to deepen the kiss. You let go of his hand to grasp his waist. He relaxed against you until you were both melting into each other. He was so responsive. He met you move for move. His touch was tender and thrilling.

“You’ll have to leave, though,” he said as he abruptly pulled back to look into your eyes. “Before this thing fires, you’ll have to go.”

You angled closer. “Why?”

“I don’t know, but I feel it.”

You accepted his answer and kissed him again. No one was around to see the two of you pressed together. The workers below couldn’t make you out across the vast underlit flue of the reactor. You had all the time you needed—here and now.

At a natural pause in the kiss, Kylo straightened to his full height. You almost whimpered for more, but he felt determined about something.

“I want to show you something,” he said and raised his helmet.

You understood his signal and put yours on, locking the face-panel under your chin once more. Whatever he wanted to show you wasn’t down here. He took your hand and led the way back to the bank of turbolifts. Before the car arrived, he let go of your hand. You understood before the doors slid back: there were techs coming down for shift change.

The techs caught sight of you and Kylo and silently scurried out of the lift. You looked to him and he at you. A surge of amusement passed between you.

You went to the back of the car and leaned on the durasteel wall. Kylo typed a commander-override express-direct code into the lift’s terminal. You two wouldn’t be disturbed for the whole ride now. You smiled as he stood next to you.

As the doors closed, you took his hand again. In reply, he curled his fingers around yours.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://the-wayward-rose.tumblr.com)


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